


Needles, Catnip and Cookies

by AlgernonInWonderland



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adorable cinnamon buns, Cussing in French, Fashion Design, Fluff, Gratuitous French, Multi, Reveal, hon hon hon, love dodecahedron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-05 07:28:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14039208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlgernonInWonderland/pseuds/AlgernonInWonderland
Summary: “Hey,” he tried in a low voice, ”what are you drawing?” And Marinette jumped, spilling the content of  her pencil case on the floor in the process. He cringed, mostly at himself. They were really bad at this, weren’t they?”It’s nothing, really,” she half mumbled, trying to recollect herself. “Only some drafts, amateur work, you know, nothing outstanding or worth your attention, you must be used to seeing much better designs, really, this is just a project for a plain old sweatshirt and I can’t figure it out so that’s not even worth talking about,” she rambled almost too quickly for him to catch.Adrien had opened the sketchbook carefully and was studying the last few pages with great care.





	1. Filled with determination

Marinette Dupain-Cheng said she would design the sweatshirts herself. She knew it, she had only a few months left in _collège_ and then the time would come for _lycée_. It the last year she could improve the horrendous maroon things the school had sold until then. And she wanted all of her classmates to have a keepsake for the many months they had shared together. Not that they could forget it in a lifetime even if they tried their best. So far, it had been rather eventful to say the least, for Paris in general but for Françoise Dupont even more, and unless Chloé decided not to go to the _lycée Carnot_ , it would be the same there. If you had told anyone that the city would turn into the occasional scene of fighting between a mysterious and malevolent man’s minions and two young people, too young, with both sides wielding powers beyond reason, they would have laughed at your nose. 

 

Not much had changed radically, Marinette sometimes complained and she almost blamed the status quo-yo for that. If she could read her thoughts, Tikki would tell her than she was mistaken, and in that the little goddess was right. The changes were there, although subtle and hard to see, if you forgot that one statue and all the merchandise; red and black polka dots were back in trend, to the young fashion designer’s amusement. The Eiffel Tower was intact and the streets of Paris were unscathed, most of the time at least. Yes, the Parisian underground was a complete mess like always with the _RER_ never quite working when needed, just like line 6 (what a nightmare it was to try to hop in a métro in the rush hours, really, Chat had almost fainted at the mere sight of it), the city itself could be much cleaner among many other things. Things hadn’t seemed to have gotten any better or much worse since the city had discovered its new heroes and villains.

 

From a tourist’s point of view, Paris was still the same. Ask a student from the collège Françoise Dupont, and if they weren’t too busy trying to run away from an akuma attack to answer, they would tell you how over simplistic that vision was. There was a certain nervousness in the Parisians’s mindset, even more than usually, after all, the risk of being confronted with a gigantic rock monster or an angry Jagged Stone was quite frightening in itself. They had witnessed, or lived for some of them, events that changed them, and in the case of Marinette’s class, it was for the best. Without Hawk Moth, such changes wouldn’t have occurred, or at least not that fast and in a way, she had to thank him. They could have done without all the trouble, though, and she couldn’t quite imagine what it must have been like for the akumatized victims.

 

“Hey, girl, are you with me ?” Alya’s hushed voice brought her back to reality. 

 

Right, designing that sweatshirt it was, and it didn’t really matter to her if she had to start doodling in class. It wasn’t that she had a knack for maths, but if being a superhero and a student at the same time had taught her one thing, it was to anticipate so that she could keep her grades up. Within the few first months, she had very roughly mastered the syllabus. Which didn’t prevent her from being rubbish at history but that was only a small detail.

 

“Not now, please,”, she whispered back with an apologetic smile. Alya shrugged and focused back on the lesson.

 

She needed to create a pattern that would make the sweatshirt confortable for wear without making it look like some sort of potato sack, yet something that would fit all sorts of body types, even Ivan’s. Else, M. Agreste would never agree on using her design, he’d simply recycle some of his older collections. He had reluctantly agreed on making the project a gift for his son’s class. She guessed she had to thank him too. If it were not for Adrien being a student at Françoise Dupont, Marinette wasn’t sure she could have hoped to submit a new design and see it done by Gabriel, at least the prêt-à-porter line. She had to impress them. And so, she started sketching, her pencil dancing on the squared sheet of paper of her ring binder. She let out a frustrated moan. She wasn’t getting anywhere yet, her mind not on what she was doing. It was going to be harder than she had thought. 

 

The deadline was only two weeks away but that didn’t mean that she could just laze around. She wanted to impress them, maybe one boy in particular had crossed her mind but it wasn’t just it, most importantly she wanted to be proud of her work If it was for something she deserved, she didn’t mind being the centre of attention. Then again, it was nothing too outstanding, really, only a school sweatshirt but she wanted to make it right. If she was lucky enough, someone would rework the design like they had done for her hat, and she would see a slightly altered version of her sweatshirt in the spring collection. She was only in _troisième_ , after all, she was well aware that her work was nowhere near the quality of a professional designer yet, but her the ambition was far from weak. If she kept working in the right direction, she knew that she could hope to be a good designer in the near future. Determination was one of the keys, and she didn’t lack it one bit.

 

Hopefully, the bell rang the end of the class sooner than she had expected, saving her from M. Dangledroit’s monotonous voice droning about trigonometry and how it would certainly be in their _brevet_ exam. Talking about that, she remembered had almost forgotten that it would be an afternoon dedicated to revising. Cramming for such an easy examination, Nino had decided, was out of the question, and Alya and Marinette, whom he worked with, not counting the addition of Adrien popping up every so often, could only agree with him. There was no reason for them to be more stressed out about sitting for the incoming exam than the potential akuma attacks. 

 

The truth be told, they spent more time procrastinating and having fun than actually working, just like any young people between the age of fourteen and fifteen. Based on Alya’s observations — Marinette had had to fake surprise at that, she had become quite a good actor — akumas fed on negative emotions and the safest way was to be carefree teenagers. And so, to the school library it was, the girl with the pigtails walking in front of her two friends, not wanting to be an awkward third-wheel to the young blogger and her boyfriend. They found a free table rather easily and tried to work for a little while, until they didn’t. Alya and Nino could try their best to look interested in the laws of physics but it wouldn’t fool anyone, the way they held hands under the table. Marinette resumed her drafts, this time in her sketchbook. Drawing on white paper made the process somehow easier. Which didn’t mean that she would be done anytime soon. She kept on trying to find the right design, sketching new ideas

 

She didn’t notice Adrien entering the library, too absorbed in her work as she was. If she had turned her head to the left, she would have seen him looking at her intently. Seeing her work was fascinating, she seemed so focused, her every gesture methodic yet not cold and lifeless like his dad’s lately. He found it cute, the way Marinette knitted her brows, not that he could tell her that, not without making a fool of himself at least, and then how would she react if he managed to say it without his voice cracking in the middle of it? It was a poor conversation starter anyway, so why did he think about his classmate’s pretty face, her freckles and the way she bit her lip every so often? He would not let his thoughts wander in that direction, Marinette was a friend, that’s all, and there was nothing wrong about finding your friends lovely.

 

Nino spotted Adrien standing around and waved at his best friend, who beamed at him. Nino pointed the free seat next to Marinette. He made sure to be to be as quiet as he could so that he wouldn’t startle her. The library would be closed in half an hour, and with all the private tutoring Adrien had at home, he didn’t really need the extra work and used these moments in the library to finish his homework, which usually didn’t take long. He just liked being with his friends. Adrien tried to focus on his Chinese textbook. That didn’t work. What was she sketching? He wanted to know, he needed to know, but he also didn’t want to bother her. He really wanted to know, though. It seemed that she had stopped drawing, he should try to ask now.

 

“Hey,” he tried in a low voice, ”what are you drawing?” And Marinette jumped, spilling the content of  her pencil case on the floor in the process. He cringed, mostly at himself. They were really bad at this, weren’t they? 

 

”It’s nothing, really,” she half mumbled, trying to recollect herself. “Only some drafts, amateur work, you know, nothing outstanding or worth your attention, you must be used to seeing much better designs, really, this is just a project for a plain old sweatshirt and I can’t figure it out so that’s not even worth talking about,” she rambled almost too quickly for him to catch.

 

He helped her pick up her things – “you really don’t have to,” she squeaked– before he looked at the sketchbook. They said that curiosity killed the cat, but right now he didn’t care.

 

“May I?”

 

“If-If you really want to,” she said. ”But as I said, it’s really not that—”

 

“Nonsense, all your designs may not be the best but you’re talented,” Alya barged in the conversation.

 

“Right,” Marinette rolled her eyes, “I might be good for a fourteen years old but that’s about it. Adrien, wait, I didn’t say —”

 

Adrien had opened the sketchbook carefully and was studying the last few pages with great care, under her “worried-Marinette” glance and Alya’s proud smirk. When he handed it back to Marinette what felt like an eternity later and remained silent.

 

“Alya is right, you know,” he gave her a small, slightly lopsided smile that reached his eyes, not his model smile or his polite smile but something else, “you’re good, really good, and when you never give up when you fail, you just try again, with something new. I think that’s amazing.”

 

She turned a bright shade of scarlet and decided that the most dignified option was to hide her face in her hands. Adrien had just said that her work was good, that _she_ was a good aspiring designer. She wanted to squeal with delight.

 

“Congrats, Agreste, I think you just broke her,” Nino fake-whispered. “Stop looking so confused and innocent, dude, you know exactly what you did!”

 

He really didn’t. 

 

To him it was just regular Marinette, and she had her moments, he had always assumed. How clueless that boy could be, Plagg thought from his pocket, was truly a mystery. 

 

“Well anyway, I really like these two designs,” he pointed at the sketches, and Marinette tried to get a look at the page from between her fingers, “they both look cool and confortable. Not that the others don’t look cool or confortable, just that these two struck me the most and I thought that they would be fun to wear and…” 

 

Fortunately, the librarian asked them to leave or to stop making so much noise before he could embarrass himself any further.

 

And so, they left the library, the four of them. It had been awkward, but she was glad that Adrien had told her what he liked the best. She thought that she should sketch some more designs, and ask her classmates about their tastes too before starting to focus on one or two designs she could then turn into proper sweatshirts, after hours of needlework. In thirteen day, she had to present a school sweatshirt for _collège Françoise Dupont_ , something new to replace the old maroon one. She would not disappoint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonjour, bonsoir!
> 
> A few explanations about the French school system and all things French in general (as, conveniently enough, I happen to be mess of a French person myself) :
> 
> From the age 11-12 to 14-15, roughly, children go to collège, troisième is for pupils between 14 and 15. The, they have le Brevet exam, which is a joke.
> 
> From age 15-16 to 18 (once again approximately) they go to lycée which is nice. I liked my lycée years (that's a complete lie). I made a post on Tumblr dealing with it in detail, you can find it[ here](https://algernoninwonderland.tumblr.com/post/173480547601/writing-tips-the-french-public-secondary).
> 
> RER is the rail network for the entire Paris area, which includes the suburbs, and it's pretty terrible and it never works and I hate it with passion.
> 
> Also, I couldn't resist that pastiche of Virginia Woolf in my first sentence just because I could.
> 
> I might write some Kagami/Marinette things in the near future once I'm done with my entrance examen for l'ENS. **Update : The fic is named "En garde! Prêtes? Allez!", it is a multi-chapter work, and at the time I'm writing this, there are already two chapters up[here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14408868/chapters/33276363). **


	2. Superheroes (part.1)

Being a superhero was all well and good, but boy did these akumas have a poor sense of timing, Ladybug thought as she rolled to the side to dodge the bike the  _Slinger_ had hurled at her. Why couldn’t Hawk Moth wait until she was done with her project? Didn’t he know that fashion design demanded the utmost attention and that him wreaking havoc in Paris was quite distracting? She had ten days left and at this rate, she would have to speed up her planning. After hours of sketching and listening to her classmates, something she had had to learn as the class representative, she had finally decided on three possible designs. Two of them had been pointed out by Adrien. That wasn’t much of a surprise Chloé had bragged, her Adrikins obviously had an eye for fashion, unlike some other people. She chastised herself for thinking about her life as Marinette. She had more urgent things to do, such as ducking immediately so that the streetlight the Slinger had just shot at her wouldn’t knock her out cold or worse.

 

“My Ladybug I have a bad _feline_ about this, I think we should _fur_ get about trying to calm him down by talking to him,” her partner screamed from across boulevard Raspail. She hated when he was right. She was the voice of reason, not him. But he hadn't meant to tell her what to do, he trusted her and she knew it. Even in his moments of worry, he found the will to crack a pun.

 

“Always so foolish,” she smiled to herself. She wouldn’t have him any other way. But if he kept acting like that, he could get seriously injured or worse and then she wouldn’t have him at all. “Chat, be careful! I think he just took Balzac’s head, he’s aiming at you—”

 

If Rodin only knew that his bronze had just been used as a projectile, he would be turning in his grave. Chat sidestepped the statue, wincing when he heard the crashing sound of broken tiles. He needed to pay attention, that could have been his spine there! He felt something wrap around his ankle, and a strong pull. About a second later, a tree was flung where he used to be. 

 

“Thanks, Bugaboo,” he chuckled. She had used her yo-yo to drag him away from the line of fire. It had been the fourth time she had saved his life tonight. He was more in love with her, if that was even possible. They took cover inside the carcass of a bus. What the Slinger had in raw strength, he lacked in brains.

 

“Let’s recap, what do we know about this… Slinger? He’s rather _purr_ sistent, if I may say so.”

 

“Seriously, mon Chaton,” she rolled her eyes in faux-exasperation. “The name says it all. If you had focused a bit more on the fighting and less on the puns, you would have seen that everything he touches with his catapult can be used as a projectile for him to throw at us.”

 

“Wow, it’s almost as if Hawk Moth had no inspiration at all and simply decided to throw another cheap and uninspired villain of the week, although I must admit that his power is rather impressive,” he snarked. 

 

“I think the Slinger fell asleep,” Ladybug said, “it must be past his bedtime.” That was a relief. The akuma was in the sling, she was sure of it. She could use her lucky charm and then go home and start creating the patterns for these sweatshirts. With a little chance, she could have the prototypes ready for the end of the the week and rework on them if she needed to. She heaved a sigh.

 

It looked as if she were right, the street was almost silent, if it wasn’t for the faint sound of something being stretched, a noise only cat ears were able to perceive.

“ _Oh putain_ , I think he spotted us,” Chat Noir screamed, “run run run run run!”

And run they did, barely able to escape the truck the Slinger had thrown in their way. She wouldn’t blame Chat for his profanity, she was quite tempted to swear herself. She didn’t, at least not loudly enough for anyone around to hear. She was a role model, after all, children looked up to her. She would have to wash her mouth with soap tonight. Her partner grinned at her and leaped on a nearby balcony. The Slinger glared at him and stomped on the ground with his light up shoes.

 

They resumed running and dodging. Man, their legs were going to be stiff for the next few day, he thought, and his fencing lessons were tomorrow. It was getting late, he really needed to get some sleep. Being Chat Noir was awesome, but it had its drawbacks too. He groaned, and used his staff to deflect the incoming Vélib bicycle. That had been a close call, they needed to end the fight and end it quickly. Did his Lady know what to do?

 

“Lucky Charm,” she called, and a really big fan fell in her hand. What was she going to do with that? It wasn’t as if they needed some fresh air…  The next projectile hit the ground with a heavy thud, a small cloud of dust lingering in the air. Now this was an idea! If the Slinger couldn’t see them then he wouldn’t be able to aim properly and then it would be a piece of cake. A car. Chat Noir’s hand. She knew exactly what to do. 

“Chat, we’re going to get dusty,” she yelled. He gave her a nod of understanding and ran right at the akumatized victim. 

 

“C’mon, kid, is that all you can do? Give me your best shot, you…” He stopped there. Calm down, it’s just a child, it’s not his fault and there’s no need to be rude.  “… You gnome!”

 

“Sh-shush, you meanie,” the Slinger cried. “I’m going to shoot your face in the guts!”

 

Somewhere in his expensive and super secret Bond villain lair, Gabriel Agreste face-palmed. He really needed to choose super villains with a wittier comeback, and he needed to stop choosing children as his puppets, these got distracted way too easily. At least his son wasn’t like that. By that time, he should be in his room getting his beauty sleep. If he only knew what his father was doing and why he was doing it, would Adrien hate him? That was a foolish thought and he chased it away. He had to make his champion docile again.

 

“Take his Miraculous,” he commanded hotly. It was really tempting to send waves of pain through the akumatized child’s body. It seemed that his tool had perceived the intent as he stopped the bickering.

 

The Slinger hit a car with his weaponized toy, and drew the leather pad back as much as he could. It glowed a sickly yellow and the vehicle as well. He smirked at Chat Noir and released it. The effect was immediate, the car flew right at the young man, ready to flatten him like a crêpe. 

 

“Cataclysm,” he mouthed and touched the car before it could crush him. 

 

The corrosion worked so well that it turned the car to a mass of rust in the blink of an eye. That was exactly what Ladybug needed. She unfolded the Lucky Charm swiftly and with a flick of her wrist, she fanned the rust-coloured cloud in the Slinger’s face. The young boy had to shield his eyes from all that dust,  giving the super heroine the time to sneak up behind him and tear the catapult from his hand. No time for being witty, she had more urgent things in her mind. She snapped it in two and a black and purple butterfly escaped the broken toy. They were done for tonight, she had caught the akuma. They had saved Paris once again and in a few seconds, all the evil and destruction the Slinger had caused would be undone.

 

After all theses month, it still amazed him, the flurry of colour that bloomed from the sky when she threw her Lucky Charm. The wave of ladybugs and light healed the damages from the fight in no time, making things right again. She didn’t catch his look of admiration, too focused on making sure that everything was alright, proud of her work but not letting it go to her head.

 

“Bien joué!” they fist-bumped as always, smiling at each other. 

She was so strong, so smart, so beautiful and fascinating, no wonder why he had fallen so hard for her. He wished they could stay that way forever. They didn’t. Ladybug gave him a hurried “can you take care of him for me?” and ran away as fast as she could. Well… That left him plenty of time to pay a visit to a civilian friend of his if she was still up. Yes, he would do this once he got young Leopold home. He tried his best to confort the child and gave him a piggyback ride on the way back. How he wished he had younger siblings… He hugged Leopold goodnight on the doorstep of his parents’ apartment.

 

Adrien de-transformed for a little while so that he could enjoy a simple stroll in the streets of Paris at night without anyone to tell him what to do and when to do it. He wanted to dance and sing and, although it was a bit cliché, to feel the cold breeze on his lightly tanned skin without the mask on. This simple freedom was intoxicating, even more so than being a hero. He bribed Plagg with a slice of mimolette — he had tried to make his kwami discover other sorts of cheese than the ones of the smelly sorts, the initiative had been met with success — and turned back into Chat Noir. He made his way to the Dupain-Cheng bakery. There was light coming from the third floor window, which meant that Marinette was still awake. 

 

He stretched his staff to have a better view of her room. She had many pictures of him, he noticed but that had to be because of the outfits he was wearing, or so he figured. As if, Plagg thought to himself. This is where he saw her, dishevelled and looking quite tired, hunched over her desk. It was impressive how dedicated she was to her projects. And in this case, based on the vast array of pens, pencils and markers she seemed to be using, she was still in the sketching phase of whatever she was doing… He was being a creep, wasn’t he, silently watching Marinette without her knowing. Ugh. He felt guilty, he had to apologize. Well, that left him with one option. After an eternity, he gathered a handful of pebbles to throw at her windowpane. He missed the first throw. And the second throw. And the third. Was his aim that terrible, or was it the bad luck? Either way, he finally succeeded on the fourth throw. That caught her attention at last, she opened her window, letting him in.

 

The next twenty minutes or so were a blur to both of them. He pestered her with many questions and savoured one of the legendary Dupain-Cheng chocolate-chip cookies she had given him, looking over her shoulder every so often while she kept on sketching. That was the sweatshirt project again, he noted, but more detailed, it didn’t look like the doodles of a aspiring fashion designer in a school library. He did not fake his amazement when she showed him the final designs she was putting the finishing touches to. She had thought everything through, the shape of the sleeves and the hood, the school logo. Father was going to be impressed, and Adrien was going to enjoy wearing one of these, no matter which one.

 

“It’s getting late, Princess, _purr_ haps you should go to bed,” he tentatively said, looking for a clock in the pink room, not that he could find any. No wonder why she was late every other morning. But he couldn’t just tell her that. On cue, his Miraculous beeped. “Anyway, this cat has to go! It was nice hanging out with you, Marinette, keep up the good work! See you!”

 

Before she could say anything, he opened the window and vanished before she could say goodbye. Marinette closed it and checked her phone — half past midnight. She decided that he was right. She deserved a proper night of rest. She dreamed of green-eyed blond boys wearing black sweatshirts, with cat ears sewn to the hood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonjour, bonsoir!
> 
> Sorry for the many mistakes, as English is not my first language.
> 
> A few explanations about the references in this small chapter, in terms of vocabulary and cultural references.
> 
> Balzac was a very influential French novelist from the first half of the 19th century, he was rather prolific as his Comédie Humaine gathers ninety-one stories. He was a realist but he also wrote fantastic novels. If you had to read one of his books, Eugénie Grandet should give you a foretaste of his work.
> 
> Rodin was a French sculptor who you may know for the Thinker. He made many statues, including the one I mentioned in this chapter. Camille Claudel, his wife, was a brilliant sculptor too. There is a museum dedicated to his work in Paris.
> 
> In this context, "Oh putain" may be translated as "Oh shit", or "Oh fuck". "Putain" can be combined with many other words to form brand new curse expressions, such as "putain de bordel de merde" which means something like "damned fucking shit".
> 
> Vélib is a Parisian bicycle sharing system, it's a portmanteau (I love how English speaker use this word, in French it means "coat stand") of "Vélo (bicycle) and "Liberté" (freedom). 
> 
> Mimolette is one of the best cheese ever but I don't know how to describe it properly, just know that it's orange and it doesn't smell nearly as bad as camembert. 
> 
> Et voilà!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I'm almost done writing this fic, there should be about five, maybe six more chapters to go before I am done with it.


	3. Sketches and Promises

“Race you to the bus station, you numbskull! You’re never gonna win this one!”

 

“You’re gonna wish you didn’t just say that, shortie!”

 

How Alix and Kim still had the energy to run after two hours of PE was a mystery to Marinette. It wasn’t that she couldn’t do it herself, one of the perks of being Ladybug was the constant exercise it provided. She used to be incredibly average when it came to her strength or her stamina, but months of saving Paris from destruction had changed that. She had tried to hide it when they played badminton but she had the build and the speed of an athlete even without her kwami to increase her abilities.

 

Nino and she had wiped the floor with Chloé and Sabrina, and that had been quite fun. “Dude, that felt good to see that arrogant smirk slip off her face,” Nino had said, and she had to agree with him on that. M. D’Argencourt had been quite impressed with their teamwork. She was lucky to have him as a friend. Speaking of Nino, she finally saw him exit the changing room, his cap jammed on his head and a wide grin on his lips as he jogged to meet her. 

 

“Do you think he’ll ask her out someday, now that he’s finally understood how terrible Chloé is?” she asked once he had caught up with her. “I mean… C’mon, it’s just obvious that they’re into each other, they don’t know it yet!”

 

Kim had tripped over what looked suspiciously like Alix’s bag from the distance, and the pink haired girl was laughing at him. Marinette and Nino cringed. That had looked rather painful.

 

“Nah, I think he’ll just stay away from romantic relationships for a while. Plus, he’ll probably figure out that the one he truly likes is right under his nose,” he said. “They’d be cute together.”

 

“Wait, you mean… Max?” She hadn’t expected that at all.

 

“He has still a lot of figuring out to do before he comes out, y’know but he’s really not that subtle,” he smirked. “It isn’t that he isn’t attracted to women too but Alix… What I’m trying to say is, they’re better off as fr— _oh la vache_!”

 

Kim had shoved Alix in a bush and he must have cracked a stupid one-liner, because he was finger-gunning right now. Marinette could understand why Nino didn’t see these two as anything else but friends.

 

They slowly strolled to the bus station. There was no way they would be late for Mlle Bustier’s class, M. D’Argencourt had been mindful of that, so they took the time, basking in the sunlight. It was nice and easy, these few minutes of rest, a far cry from the rush of the last few days. Being an normal girl with an normal life wasn’t always so bad from time to time. But there was no way she would ask for her old life back.

 

“So today’s the big day, right?” he inquired, and when he saw a frown, he added “Don’t worry, you’re gonna to blow our minds!”

 

“Well, not _the_ big day but yeah, I get to show you guys my designs,” she said absentmindedly. “I’m almost done with the patterns but I don’t think you’d be very interested in those. I need to go fabric-shopping soon…”

 

“How soon? Me and Alya wanted to go to the cinema tomorrow, Adrien might be there so that you wouldn’t be all awkward stuck between us lovebirds… Want to come with?” he asked. “You don’t have to answer me now, but I just thought that I’d let you know.”

 

“I don’t know, I thought I’d shop this afternoon right after that test… In physics, right? If I’m not too busy with the needlework, I’d really like to go out with Adrien! I mean, with you two too! I mean… Well you know what I mean.” 

 

He tried to stifle his laugh at her face. She had warmed up to Adrien and didn’t stammer nearly as much as before around him but her tongue slipped every so often. Now if the blind idiot finally noticed her and stopped fooling himself with the whole “such a nice friend” act…

 

The bus arrived and Marinette was back in her “fashion designer” mindset, planning the way she would present her work to the class. She had asked Mlle Bustier whether she could use a few minutes at the beginning of the hour to show them her job. It wasn’t an inappropriate use of her power as a class representative, she had made sure of that. She had rehearsed her presentation many times over, both in her head and with Tikki, she had even imagined Chloé cutting in every so often and some efficient comeback if she did interrupt. She whispered to herself during the entire ride, and all the way to the classroom. 

 

“Marinette had an announcement to make,” the literature teacher spoke softly. “I’d like your complete attention, yes it means all of you. Go ahead, Marinette.” She stepped aside, leaving room for Marinette to face all of her classmates. She was going to blow their minds. 

 

“Thank you, mademoiselle,” she said. “As you all remember, I recently proposed to come up with a replacement for the school sweatshirt. I thought that it was only faire to show you all the definitive designs I thought would be the best before I start making the prototypes the prototypes.”

 

“As you’ll see, I tried to find a proper balance between confort and style as we all know that the maroon thing the school sells provides neither of these things.”

 

They were all listening, even Chloé which was rather unlike her, she even seemed interested. Alya was giving her a thumbs up. It was going better than she could have hoped. She could start with her PowerPoint presentation. Everything was going way better than she had planned,

 

She handed Nino a sheet of paper. “Here is  the design sheet that Nino will pass around,” she said, “so that you can have a closer look. I haven’t decided which design to choose, and I thought you all should have your word to say.”

 

“So… The first one! On the Facebook poll, some of you had complained that sweatshirts were not elegant at all, uncomfortable and shapeless. I tried to make it stylish, I tried to give more shape to the shoulders. More importantly, I added my redesign of the stand-up collar. It looked more like a shirt so I turned it into a jacket with proper buttons, and the school logo is on these buttons. I’d like to use black linen for this one.”

 

Marinette waited for a little while, watching the faces as the design sheet came in the hands of the many students, They had all looked impressed, Adrien had even smiled at her. She was about to get the piece of paper back when she heard a noise she didn’t like at all.

 

“Oooops, I’m actually so sorry, please forgive my clumsiness, Dupain-Cheng,” Sabrina faux-moaned. “I think I accidentally tore that piece of paper of yours!”

 

“Don’t worry, it was only a photocopy, there are still many others if you want to look at my designs again.” She felt Adrien’s disappointed glance he gave Chloé. It seemed that he had finally understood how his childhood friend used  Sabrina to do the dirty work. But back to her presentation.

 

“The second design! You’ll notice that I took inspiration from these old American soap dramas where the cool kids wore letterman jackets, but it’s still a sweatshirt, no zipper, no buttons. See how the sleeves are a lighter beige, with a blue stripe on the cuff to echo the one of the vest. I thought that we’d put the school logo on the centre back of the sweatshirt.”

 

Her classmates chatted enthusiastically at that. She knew that a professional jury would not be as impressed as students in troisième were, but that was enough for now.  

 

“Finally, my third design, the one with a hood! I altered the selvedge so that it would not be too thick. I tried to keep it simple, so stripes were a big no. I though that in terms of fabric, poplin would be the best idea. I liked the idea of larger sleeves, so they’re a little bigger on the cuffs, but the fabric is thin enough that you can roll the sleeves if you want to. This one is pastel pink but I don’t think M. Damocles would approve, so I might change it. Once again, the logo is on the back and there’s one above where the breast pocket used to be.” She breathed in and out calmly.“Well, I guess that’s it!”

 

Nathaniel clapped tentatively, then Alya, Adrien, Nino and soon, the entire room, including Chloé, greeted her with loud applause. They had liked what she had shown them, she hadn’t disappointed them.

 

But Marinette was not done yet. “Now that you know all about my designs, I thought that some of us could model them so that we can see what they look like on real people! Does anyone want to volunteer?” she asked. 

 

Many hands raised from every corner of the room. How was she going to make her choice? On the one hand it would make sense to choose Adrien, he was a model after all, but on the other he wasn’t the only one who was going to wear one of these. was. Not that there was anything wrong about that, he was gorgeous, but a model may not represent the diversity of the class. He was doing modeling all the time, so maybe it would be nice for him not to have to do it this time. The classroom was silent before Marinette opened her mouth.

 

“How about… Ivan, Juleka and Alya, if everyone’s OK with that?” she proposed. Their nods was the only answer she needed. “Well, thank you for allowing me to present my project in your class, mademoiselle.” 

 

She got back to her place, and if her eyes hadn’t deceived her, she saw Chloé mouth a “I’m sorry for before” at her. Alya gave her a victory hug. Marinette’s bag shook in a congratulatory way. For a little while, she was proud of herself until she wasn’t. The rest of the period passed quickly as Mlle Bustier started talking about the hints in their except from _Les Misérables_ that let the reader know that Monsieur Madeleine was Jean Valjean in disguise but Marinette wasn’t able to concentrate at all. She wasn’t at peace with herself. Had she made the right decision by not choosing Adrien? He didn’t seem to mind but she knew that he often tried to please as many people as he could, as long as it was the right thing to do. He had looked very interested in her designs back then and this interest hadn’t faltered. 

 

Hopefully, it was only a matter of minutes before Mlle Bustier let them go. It was absolute torture and she mulled over what she could possibly tell him that she wouldn’t be able to say in front of him anyway. But if she said nothing, she would overthink it and regret it and maybe she had hurt his feelings? The bell rang, giving her no other choice but to gather the courage to talk to him.

 

“Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t choose you but I thought that you could take a break from modeling for a little while because you must be busy with all these photo shoots and the other stuff stuff but if you want to wear one of my creations I’d really be happy to oblige, I mean if you want to, it’s not as if I wanted you to wear the clothes I make or anything, you know, you should only say yes if that makes you happy because I’d like you to be happy oh no I should probably stop talking right now,” she spluttered.

 

Of all the things he had imagined Marinette say, this hadn’t crossed Adrien’s mind once. No one had told him anything like that before. A small blush tinged his cheeks. And to make things worse (or better, from a certain point of view), his mouth worked faster than his brains did. “Y-yes, I’d really like that, wearing clothes made by you, that is,” he blurted. And trying to regain his composure, he added, “Your presentation was really impressive!”

 

“Dude, we’re going to get late for physics,” Nino grabbed his best friend’s arm and dragged him along to the corridor before Marinette could give an answer. 

 

She wouldn’t let the opportunity slip through her finger, she told herself as she ran after the two boys, she had to tell him. She felt like she had to navigate through a crowd of students before she could reach Adrien, just before they entered Mme Mendeliev’s classroom. 

 

“Then I’ll make you your own clothes! Made to measure! It’ll be a gift!”

 

And with his smile, the slightly lopsided one that lit up his eyes, she knew that he believed in her. She had eight days left to finish the sweater project, as she had dubbed it. That was enough to start designing a little something for Adrien too.  The fabric shopping session that followed that awful test was one of the best she had ever had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonjour, bonsoir!
> 
> These children are quite adorable, aren't they!
> 
> A few explanations about the references in this small chapter, in terms of vocabulary and cultural references.
> 
> "M." stand for Monsieur and "Mlle" for Mademoiselle, they are respectively the equivalents to Mr and Miss, but I kept them that way for the couleur locale.
> 
> "Oh la vache" stands for "holy cow" but I found it more lively in French.
> 
> Les Misérables, before it was butchered by too many musicals, was one of Victor Hugo's masterpieces. It is quite a long text, quite rich too. 
> 
> (Please keep in mind that as a Froggy, English is not my first language.)
> 
> Et voilà!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I'll see you all soon for a new chapter!


	4. Needles, Catnip and Cookies

Her room had turned into a battlefield of some sorts, albeit there was a method in that, Chat Noir just didn’t grasp it yet, at least it was what she told him. A few years back, when Father had allowed him to watch after mum had managed to convince him, he had been impressed but this was something entirely else. Whereas Father had been silent, only opening his mouth to order his assistants around — it had almost been as if his son didn’t exist — Marinette hummed to herself and chatted with her feline friend every so often. She had assured him that she didn’t mind the company as long as he behaved.

 

She had put a plant pot by her window side, catnip to be precise. The mere smell of it was enough for him to be giddy, and he had to fight the need to grin like an idiot and laugh at nothing in particular. Truth be told, it was not only because of the intoxicating quality of catnip. He wondered if it was Plagg’s fault that it affected him like that. Either way, this night was only getting better, if that was even possible. Nino had somehow convinced Nathalie to let him go to the cinema with his friends. Leave it to Nino to choose just the right movie at the right cinema. The MK2 Hautefeuille was a small enough cinema, and Nino had managed to trick them into watching _Same old song_ instead of that terrible horror flick Alya had been so passionate about. The film had been quite weird but fun too, Marinette seemed to have enjoyed it as much as he had. He’d ask his father if they could watch some more Alain Resnais films together once he was back from his short business trip in Milan. 

 

The patrol after the film had been great, and with no akumas to fight, their patrol didn’t take more than a half hour. They chatted for a little while afterwards. His Lady looked radiant and very happy, she was in a playful enough mood for them to race from Sacré Cœur to Notre Dame.  Of course, she had won. She was amazing. They had chatted for a while, and also they had decided not to reveal their civilian identities, he learned that she had hung out with friends for a little while and that things at school were going quite well. When she asked about him, he gave her an almost similar answer. It had been great, and before she politely and to take her leave, she had even kissed him on the cheek. She was bad for his heart. He loved her, but acting around her as a friend even more than a partner was already so much..

 

The sound of scissors on cloth brought him back to reality. If he remembered well, it was the first design she was working on right now. 

 

“C’mere, Chat, I’m going to tell you how it’s done,” she said, beckoning him over. “See? Yesterday, I bought some more fabric so that I could actually work with some proper material. And here,” she pointed to what looked like three lumps, “are my first prototypes. It’s nothing special, I used muslin to test my patterns for a standard size. There were a few mistakes so I had to rework them a little. You can touch if you want, just be careful with the claws.”

 

He did as he was told, and lifted one of the so-called to get a closer look at it. Did Marinette ever stopped impressing him? He saw the little irregularities here, some  and there, but only because she had pointed them out. She wanted to do the best she could, and it showed. He turned back to her, and she was knitting her brows ever so slightly and biting her lip. Her desk and the floor around it was slowly littered with scraps of fabric as she slowly shaped the collar for… Was it the first design? He’d ask her about it as Adrien tomorrow.

 

“Princess, this is amazing. I swear I’m not _kitten_ ,” he whispered. Not knowing what to do with his hands and finding his mouth very dry, he toyed with… Whatever that cat-shaped trinket could possibly be. He wanted to say it. He was going to say it. “And… You look really cute when you knit your brows like that when you’re focused.”

 

“Well… Thank you, I guess,” she said hesitantly. “Right now, I’m cutting the many parts, I’ll sew them together once I’m done. At this pace, I should be done with it in, say, half an hour. Could you pass me the fabric marker, please?”

 

He was intoxicated, completely so, high as a cat so he didn’t think when he spoke his last words.

 

“Here you go, My Lady…”

 

“Wrong one, Kitty, that’s a pencil, how can you mix these things up?“

 

“Oh.”

 

“Chaton, are you high on catnip?”

 

Right on cue, his ring beeped. Would it be so bad to de-transform in Marinette’s room? Would she freak out? Certainly. It would be his reaction if one of his classmates happened to be Ladybug, not that there was a single chance of it being actually the case. the mere thought of it was silly. But then why had she called him that, that was one of his Lady’s nickname for him. Marinette didn’t have nicknames for him. Wait. What? 

 

His ring beeped again. He was in a hurry but he was had manners. “I’m afraid I can’t stay any longer, Marinette, see you tom…” he stopped before he could give himself away. Why was he so careless? Should he cover that up with a pun?  “See you later, alligator!”

 

When he exited through the window, he felt her eyes on him the entire time. She quickly shut the window close. He had almost said “See you tomorrow”. Was he someone she knew as a civilian? Did he know her secret identity? Merde…The evening had been so nice, she didn’t need such questions in her life right now. Couldn’t her life be simple from time to time? 

 

She had enjoyed the film — it hadn’t been a date unlike what these two had said, it was just friends having a good time together — and it seemed that everyone else did to. Saying that Nino had been overenthusiastic would be an understatement, but she couldn’t blame him for that: the way that director blended music and comedy to make something quite original but that somehow worked was refreshing, it had aged surprisingly well too. 

 

The patrol that followed an hour later had been great. Chat Noir was still a terrible flirt but he made it amusing, she didn’t mind it, she had even played along this time. She didn’t want to admit it, but he was really nice and, as he said himself, “quite dashing,” and their little race over the rooftops of Paris had been fun, she had been foolish enough to kiss him on the cheek, it was something she could get used to.

 

She stopped her train of thoughts right there and resumed her work just like Tikki suggested she did. She was glad her kwami was there. A few snips of scissors later, she switched her sewing machine on. The next half-hour was silent if it weren’t for the sound of the machine, her hands dancing around the various parts, putting them together at last. Juleka was going to love it, and hopefully the rest of their classmates too. That would have to wait for tomorrow. She checked her phone, 0:12 AM, 4 messages from Alya, all was good, she could go to sleep now. She tried to clean up a little then gave up. 

 

She had one of her recurring nightmares that night, one in which Chat Noir kept calling her “M’lady” while tipping a ratty fedora.

 

“ _Miss Dupain-Cheng, late again, as always,_ ” the English teacher said in a bad impression of a proper British accent. 

“ _I’m sorry, Mrs Benyounes_ ,” Marinette replied in an equally awful-sounding English as she found a seat. 

 

She was glad that it was only a single period, not that she didn’t like the teacher but there were more urgent things in life than learning how to speak proper English in class, like finding Juleka during the break to tell her about her progress, and ask Ivan what his size was so that he wouldn’t end up wearing something too small for his frame. He had agreed to wear her third design, the “soft one” as she had nicknamed it, after Mylène had convinced him that it was completely fine for him to wear something cute if he wanted to, and that unlike some boys said, that didn’t make him a wuss. Teenagers are cruel sometimes.

 

Before she could do any of these things, Adrien came at her desk, he looked tired and had uneasiness written all over his perfect face. He seemed lost in his thoughts and it looked quite complicated if you asked Marinette. He waved at her. She waved back. He tried a smile. She smiled back. He said nothing, and neither did she. What did he want? Was it about her promise of making him clothes, had he changed his mind about it?   He wasn’t nearly as reserved usually, a little aloof sometimes but not awkward the way he was right now. Did she mean she had to start the conversation?

 

“The sweatshirts!” he finally blurted after what felt like an eternity. Encouraged by Marinette’s smile, he continued, in a calmer tone of voice “I thought about the kind of clothes made by you that I’d like to wear, and I think I’d like you to create a hoodie for me!”

 

“That would be a good idea! Let’s talk about it when it’s lunchtime,” she offered as they walked to the history classroom.  “We’ll have plenty of time for that then, and my parents baked cookies if you want one.”

 

“Sounds good, Marinette,” he smiled more confidently this time.

 

She had to sit through two painful hours of history lessons. She had told herself that history was the one subject she would try to follow in class if any, and sometimes she deeply regretted it. The teacher droned on about the Fourth Republic and the Marshall Plan (remember, students, it may be the subject for the Brevet exam) and Marinette was sure that she had been sleeping for a good twenty minutes when Alya jabbed a finger into her arm to wake her up. 

 

Lunch was nice, if a little awkward when Nino and Alya ditched their two friends for some unknown but very urgent reason. The awkwardness had dissipated when she started talking about fashion, something that Adrien knew would make her less nervous, even more confident. As it turned out, he had given thoughts for that hoodie. He asked many questions when she tried to explain him how it all worked in her own words. He knew exactly what kind of questions to ask, as if he had done it before. That reminded her of someone, but she couldn’t tell who exactly. With him working in the fashion industry, it only made sense that he had such a good grasp on the terminology, she guessed. Then it came to her when she heard his request. It went like this.

 

“Marinette, promise you won’t laugh when I tell you about the kind of design I had imagined, but please tell me if you think it’s a terrible idea,” he said.

 

“I swear, Adrien, I won’t make fun of you or anything, why do you think I’d laugh about?” She was surprised… She didn’t think Adrien would be insecure, and especially not about fashion of all things.

 

“Well… I thought of… Maybe some red fabric with black polka dots to imitate Ladybug  you know, and Chat Noir ears sewn on the hood? To make, I don’t know, Catbug or something?… Hey, Marinette, are you alright?”

 

Oh no. 

 

She knew exactly who Adrien made her think of. The lame puns. His curiosity when it came to her designs. Why his tongue had slipped. It all made sense now. She needs to breathe deeply and try not to screech. Adrien was Chat Noir. Chat Noir was Adrien. Chatdrien? Adrinoir? She wasn’t making any sense there. She was so glad that it was him and she wasn’t. Did he know too? Chat Noir was head over heels for Ladybug, did that mean that Adrien liked her that too? But she wasn’t in love with Chat Noir, so did that mean that she actually didn’t love Adrien?  Was Adrien an act and Chat Noir who he really was? Instead of trying to answers to these pressing question, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Ladybug, bearer of the Miraculous of creation,  did the one sensible thing she could do.

 

She choked on her homemade cookie in the middle of the schoolyard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonjour, bonsoir!  
> Things are getting a little tricky here!
> 
> A few explanations about the references in this small chapter, in terms of vocabulary and cultural references.
> 
> The MK2 Hautefeuille is one of my favourites cinemas, it is rather small with cinema auditoria no bigger than 200 seats. 
> 
> Same Old Song (On connaît la chanson in French) is a weird but highly enjoyable movie, it won many Césars. And you should watch it if you can. Anything by Alain Resnais, really, he was one of the greatest French directors ever.
> 
> (Keep in mind that English is not my first language)
> 
> Thank you all for the kudos and the comments, I really appreciate them!
> 
> I’ll see you for the next chapter!


	5. Static

“Marinette, you should stop avoiding him, you know,” Tikki said in a small voice. “Running away from Adrien won’t do you any good.”

 

“I know,” she moaned. “I know that but I don’t know what to do then, I don’t know what to do with the fact that he is… _Him_. What can I say, I’m busy, so it’s not really as if I were purposefully ignoring the problem.”

 

Trying not to interact with Chat Noir or Adrien these last few days had been harder than she had expected. After the choking incident, things had become awkward again between them, she had almost reverted to her old self from the beginning of the year when they shared the same room, without the stuttering or the blushing. She had busied herself with the sweatshirt project so that she wouldn’t have to meet with him outside of class. She had to make up excuses so that she wouldn’t have to go through their study sessions with Adrien this week-end, and Monday too. Alya had said that she looked tired and under the weather, that was an understatement. She couldn’t tell her what had been the cause of that, it was one of the few things she couldn’t share with her best friend, and although it was for Alya’s own good and safety. Things in her life as Marinette weren’t so good.

 

As Ladybug, things hadn’t been any better. She had cancelled patrol but there hadn’t been any akuma attacks anyway so there was nothing wrong with being completely committed to a very time-demanding job that she could only do in her room, away from pretty boys with fair hair, gorgeous green eyes lightly tanned skin and sometimes cat ears, right? She was only three days away from the deadline, Gabriel Agreste would be back in Paris tomorrow evening and everything had to be perfect. She wasn’t avoiding her son, she would never do that, she simply had many things to do to keep up with her conveniently heavy schedule. At least that was what she told herself.

 

She’d rather not think about it now. Besides, there were more urgent matters she needed to attend to. She cut a loose thread from the sweatshirt, and ran her thumb over the seam. Flawless. She had decided that the letterman jacket-inspired sweatshirt would be the last one she’d work on. Her civilian best friend was going to love it. She had finished the one for Ivan the day before, it had been a strenuous job and her fingers had slipped more than a few times. It was easier when Chat… When Adrien was around. Not that it felt lonely without him, her kwami was good company, but it was different, in a way that she didn’t like. She had lowered her shutter so that alley cats would not pester her. She had turned up the volume of her speaker, so that her room wouldn’t be uncomfortably silent. 

 

She tried to take her time, to go as slowly as she could so that she wouldn’t have to deal with the whole Chatdrien situation. With great care, she followed the cutting layout for the sleeves. The hemline wasn’t easy, she had to start many times over. Once or twice, it almost turned into a _cat_ astrophy. But despite everything, she was a lucky girl, maybe even luckier thanks to the lucky charm Adrien had made for her. She should not think about it now. She focused on the sweatshirt, hoping to make the sewing process as long as she could.

 

She was done in a matter of minutes. Sometimes, she wished she weren’t so efficient with her needlework. At last, she laid the three sweatshirts down on the wooden floor. That was it, then, she was done. It had come up pretty nicely, she mused, even better than what she had planned. She stayed like that for a few minutes, inspecting her work as she looked for defects, even though she already knew that there were none, it had been her best creations to this day. A few more minutes to rest, she told herself. She checked her phone. Unless he had cancelled, Adrien should be fencing practice today. She groaned. She was going to drive herself mad if she didn’t solve the Chatdrien situation soon. She mulled it over but nothing came out of it. Should she just give up? 

 

“You can make things right,” the little kwami chirped, as though she had read her mind. “I have a plan.”

 

Marinette listened attentively, nodding every so often. It was a sensible scenario, she thought, and it was definitely doable, not even too risky, and the first part of it didn’t even involve her leaving her room. That was simple yet efficient and if it failed, it wouldn’t be too bad and she could backtrack easily if needed. She cracked her fingers. She had many texts to send in the next half-hour, to set things in motion. 

 

“Don’t worry, Adrien, Chaton,” she said to herself, “I’m going to solve the mess we’ve made.”

 

 

Adrien sneezed under his helmet, which distracted him from his opponent's attack.

 

“Touché!” M. D’Argencourt’s voice boomed. “Adrien, you should focus more on your fencing and less on your sneezing.”

 

“I’m sorry, monsieur, it won’t happen again,” the boy said. He couldn’t concentrate. He liked sabre better than foil. But it didn’t matter right now. “En garde, Louis?”

 

His opponent nodded and soon, Louis tried to lunge as Adrien, but the latter parried his foil and riposted. That was a touch. Yes. At least, there was one thing he was still good at. The last two days had been hard for him and fencing had turned into an outlet for his confusion and frustration. Father would be back from Italy, and it did nothing to ease his turmoil. He sounded like some corny romantic hero and he didn’t know whether he should laugh about it or be worried. 

 

It had all started after lunch, after Nino and Alya had left, or even the night before. There had been something off with Marinette since that fateful evening when his tongue had almost slipped and she had called him “Chaton”. He had replayed the scene in his head many times over, and it made even less sense every time when he started imagining Ladybug sitting at Marinette’s desk in her room, Ladybug calling him Adrien and giving him cookies from the Dupain-Cheng bakery, Ladybug sitting behind him in class. 

 

His Lady didn’t want to see him, it seemed. Her messages had been laconic to say the least, she sounded slightly distressed as well. Patrolling without her was lonely and it had done nothing to lift his spirits. He could to understand, there were no akumas on the loose. He didn’t have to like it, though. He still enjoyed the freedom that Chat Noir allowed, but without Bugaboo it wasn’t the same. _Un seul être vous manque et tout est dépeuplé._ He was being obsessive, his kwami would tell him. 

 

It seemed that Marinette didn’t want to see him either, be it as Adrien or as Chat Noir. He knew what closed shutters meant, and although it made sense that she wanted some alone-time to concentrate on her project, there was something else, he was sure of it. Was it a boyfriend, or maybe a girlfriend? Was she mad at him?  So many questions he couldn’t ask her directly. Adrien had thought that Marinette had warmed up to both sides of him, but maybe he had been mistaken. She was acting aloof, which was even worse. He hadn’t been in the greatest of moods. If it weren’t for Nino, he would have kept to himself. Had he been he too demanding, had he assumed things he shouldn’t have? Either way, something had gone wrong and what it was exactly he couldn’t say. Had he lost a friend? Did she think he was a fool, or a terrible person who had guilt-tripped her into making him new clothes? Or was it something else? Had he started to view her as something more?

 

These thoughts had kept him up all night and he had to use more concealer so that he wouldn’t look too tired, but the make up artist from yesterday’s shoot had given him a worried look and asked him if everything was alright, if Adrien had slept at all. Fencing practice forced him to focus on something tangible, the exertion was real and it was good. But soon, too soon, it would be over, he’d have to go back home although it didn’t quite feel like home.

 

He motioned his opponent to attack him once more. Adrien was not focused, he knew it, and he almost failed to deflect Louis’s blade, aimed right at his shoulder. He dodged the first thrust and beat his fencing partner’s foil out of line — lateral sixte — before Louis could try a remise. Adrien’s counterattack granted him the point. When had he become so sloppy? He used to be so much better than that. He knew that there was no use in continuing for today, and he excused himself quickly.

 

As he made his way to the changing room, he re-examined the Marinette-and-Ladybug situation, as he had named it. Although Plagg had been no help at all, but then again it was to be expected, Adrien had managed to cut it down to five and a half questions, the answers to which were the keys to understanding the last few days and why everything was so confusing. Who was Marinette Dupain-Cheng? What did she mean to him? Why had she been so distant lately? Why had Ladybug been so distant as well? Did either of them know that he was both Chat Noir and Adrien Agreste and if it was the case what would it change?

 

A buzzing sound pulled him out of his thoughts. He was pretty sure Nathalie informing him of a last-minute change to his schedule or Chloé complaining about something, maybe it would be Nino if he was lucky, He fumbled in his bag for his phone. He had one missing call as well as two texts from his civilian best friend, and one message, the most recent from an unknown number. Well then, he thought to himself, let’s read!

 

 

**Le poto Nino**

_My dude, Marinette just asked me if I could give her ur number what should I do????_

 

**Le poto Nino**

_Duuuude, I phoned you but you don’t answer, u still at fencing practice?? Anyway u should expect a text from Mari soon_

 

He stopped. Marinette had wanted to text him? What for? Was the last text from her? He had the answer when he read the message.

 

 **Unknown number** (+33653257)

_Hey, Adrien,_

_I’m sorry about the last few days, I wasn’t feeling very well and I ignored you, that wasn’t right._

_So, about your Catbug project, how about we try to talk about it and see what we can do about it? :)_

_Marinette_

 

 

He had checked, there was no one else but him in the changing room. He let out a small squeal. Marinette did not hate him, she had not forgotten her promise, she had even remembered the pun he had made. She had been quite elusive in her way to explain the reason why she had been so remote, but he would not ask if she didn’t want to tell him about it. This text didn’t answer any of the burning questions, he knew it, but it improved his mood greatly. He started typing a reply immediately then stopped. What was the proper answer? After what felt like hours of hard work, he finally pressed “Send”. 

 

Marinette’s heart almost skipped when she opened Adrien’s message and Tikki gave her a “I had told you so” look.

 

**Chatdrien**

_Hi, Marinette_

_I hope you feel better now, you had me a little worried there :)_

_How about we talk about it now? ;) Only if you want to_

 

Without knowing it, she had the exact same reaction as Adrien when he had seen her text. She spent the next fifteen minutes or so to decipher it as she tried to grasp what he had meant with that winking emoji. That was a very Chat-like thing to send, she decided. Two could play this game. 

 

**’Nette**

_I thing you should come at my house for lunch tomorrow instead ;)_

 

She didn’t know it then, but Adrien almost fainted when he reread her message. Now was time for phase two of Tikki’s plan, her Ladybug needed to talk to Chat Noir in person, but she knew that letting Marinette organize their meeting would be disastrous. The kwami of creation closed her eyes, her tiny body glimmering a faint red. When Tikki opened her eyes again, she smiled, and somehow, Marinette found that smile frightening.

 

“I reached out to Plagg,” Tikki explained. “He’ll tell his bearer that Ladybug wants to meet him on the rooftop of the Tour Montparnasse in three hours and that she’s got something important to tell him.”

 

Marinette gulped audibly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonjour, bonsoir!
> 
> Here I am leaving you on a cliffhanger because… Because.
> 
> A few explanations about the references in this small chapter, in terms of vocabulary and cultural references (although there aren’t many here).
> 
> « Un seul être vous manque et tout est dépeuplé », a quote from Alphonse de Lamartine’s poem “L’isolement” (Isolation, or Loneliness). Although he is by far not my favorite French poet, that was a nice line. Which means something like “a single being is missing, and everything is unpeopled”
> 
> Le Poto Nino can be translated as “the pal Nino” but knowing Adrien’s love for terrible puns and probably rhymes as well, I couldn’t resist that.
> 
> I thought that “ ‘Nette ” would sound better than Mari (besides it feels like a misspelling of “Marie”), as it is a diminutive (Marinette actually is Marine + the diminutive suffix -ette. Now you know everything about the French language.) 
> 
> The Tour Montparnasse (Montparnasse Tower), you’ve already seen it in Gorizilla, it looks kind of meh in the middle of the Parisian landscape but there are a few projects to renovate the facade. 
> 
> (Please do keep in mind that English is not my first language, none of this has been proofread yet.)
> 
> Thank you all again for the kudos and the comments, they are truly encouraging! I’m starting to stress out because my ENS exams are in two weeks but posting things here and getting to read the feedback helps a lot, somehow. I don’t know if that makes any sense.
> 
> I’d like to write some Lukadrien once I’m done writing my Kagaminette thingy, I’m almost done with the general plot and structure. Also, I have something quite big and more plot-driven planned once I’m done with these two projects. In the near future. **Update: my Kagami/Marinette fic is titled "En garde! Prêtes? Allez!", a multi-chapter work and still a WIP so far, which you can read[here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14408868/chapters/33276363). **
> 
> I’ll see you for the next chapter, I hope you won’t be disappointed!
> 
> (this was slightly edited the day after I posted it because it was quite messy)


	6. Anyone else but you

“Chat, when I found out who you were I was lost and afraid and so happy that it was… Ugh, that sounds so dumb!” Ladybug moaned to herself. Talking to herself wasn’t doing her any good. 

 

She knew that she shouldn’t have come so early, she had one more half hour to wait before he would be there at all. It was a first, Marinette being on time for something that wasn’t fashion-related. And so here she was, waiting for Chat Noir to come so that she could fix everything. Tikki’s plan had sounded rather simple, something she could have come up with herself, nothing incredible. She simply needed to explain why she had cancelled their nightly patrol. He needed to know that she knew. And maybe he was aware of who she was under the mask too. But she wouldn’t need to ask him if he knew or not. Tonight, she would tell him everything, it was the most sensible thing to do even if it would be one of the hardest things.

 

It wasn’t shame that had made her want to keep her civilian identity secret. Yes, it would certainly disappoint him to find out that the girl he had become so infatuated with was plain old mousy Marinette Dupain-Cheng, but it wasn’t just that, far from it. She wasn’t ashamed of who she was. She had done it to protect the people close to her from Hawk Moth : she understood it, he hadn’t been above using children to try to steal her Miraculous, so thinking that he wouldn’t try to hurt her loved ones would be very naive.  It was why she hadn’t told anyone, not her parents, not even Alya. If he had been anyone else, it wouldn’t have been safe to tell him who she was in the daytime, but she knew that with his brooding and secretive tendencies, Adrien would not tell a soul. As a civilian, he had to keep a facade, he was his father’s brand image after all, and if he tarnished him in any way… But she didn’t want to think about what would happen if Gabriel Agreste discovered that his son sneaked out of his manor to save Paris or simply to stroll around the city.

 

When Chat finally joined her at the top of the Tour Montparnasse, the sky would be pitch dark, she had mused. She allowed herself a few minutes to contemplate the scenery that stretched before her eyes, something she usually couldn’t do when she was Ladybug. It was captivating, the way Paris was always moving, and humming, the golden, almost reddish light of the slowly setting sun on the roofs, the Eiffel Tower watching over the city. She could feel the life that coursed through the streets, as if Paris was a living being of its own. She could feel its heart beat ever so slightly. It was beautiful, not perfect, far from it, but it was something worth protecting. She lost herself in the landscape, became one with it as night slowly coloured the atmosphere with a faint shade of dark blue. The weather slowly got colder, the fresh wind would have ruffled her hair if it hadn’t been for her pigtails. She knew it, it was time, and when she would turn around, he would be there… Was she ready? What mattered was to make things right, her being ready came second to that. She wasn’t born ready for that, but then again, who was? 

 

Before she even heard the soft sound of his footsteps on the concrete ground, she knew that he was there, she had sensed him. It needed to be done, she told herself, she needed to do what she had to do and they’d figure it out together. She slowly. So why was it so difficult to imagine what it would be like to look him in the eyes? She turned her back to the landscape. 

 

He ran a clawed hand through his tousled hair as he gave her a hesitant beam. He was happy to see her, it seemed, but confused too. Chat Noir looked tired without his makeup on, but he was still beautiful. He probably had a lot on his mind, just like her. She needed to find something to say, the silence was deafening. She breathed in, breathed out and here they were.

 

“Hey,” she said in a low voice. 

 

“Hey,” he echoed. “So…”

 

They remained silent, Ladybug knitting her brows and biting her lip., Chat Noir not quite knowing what to do with his hands. Something flashed in these green eyes, something that looked like recollection, not that she could have told in the dark. 

 

“So I’m sorry Chat. I messed up, really bad,”  her voice trembled. “I broke a promise. I avoided you on purpose. I’ve been a really bad friend.”

 

“My Lady I —”

 

“Please, Chat, can you let me talk? It’s really important for me, for us” she didn’t try to stop the crack in her voice. “I found out who you were when your Miraculous runs out,  Chaton. I hadn’t meant to but it happened anyway. And I didn’t know what to do with it, but running away from you wasn’t going to solve anything. I needed to clarify things and so here I am. It isn’t you, it’s me.”

 

“My Lady,” he whispered. It hurt, as if someone had punctured a hole in his chest with a sewing needle. “Does that mean that you don’t want us to be a team anymore, is it because you’re disappointed in—”

 

“Adrien, I could never be disappointed in you, finding out who you were when you weren’t transformed, finding out that you were…” she had to fight a sob, she was on the verge of tears and he knew it. “Finding out that you were _you_ was one of the best things that have ever happened to me, but one of the most frightening things too.”

 

”W-what? I… I don’t think I understand. How so? When?” he said between choked breaths. Hearing his Lady call him that name even though he was still wearing the mask, the way she said it, it was so familiar but 

 

“Let me finish first. I was scared because of what it meant to me, what you mean to me. You’re my best friend, Chaton. And as Adrien… The reason why I couldn’t be in love with you as Chat Noir was because there was somebody else I was in love with.” She stopped and breathed in and out deeply. ”This someone was you, Adrien.”

 

He didn’t want to look at her. Her words, they felt as if she had thrown him into the freezing water of the Seine. “Was I a sort of celebrity crush then?” he asked bitterly. He had a fan club at Françoise Dupont, something Chloé had made him aware of. “I could give you an autograph if you want, Ladybug.”

 

That hurt. He was hurting as much as she was. But that had been unfair. “Of course not! It had nothing to do with you being a model or anything like that, I found it a little intimidating to be honest. I wouldn’t have fallen for you just because you were famous,” she tried to reply with a cheerful tone but it fell flat. “I fell in love with the boy who shares cat memes with Nino Lahiffe, the boy who is allergic to pigeon feathers, a boy so stifled by his father’s grand plans for him that going to school was a source of joy for him, a kind, sensitive boy, a little too polite, a little dorky, the boy I thought I had begun to get to know well. I wanted to make him happy.”

 

He blinked and there was a sudden surge of warmth in his chest. Yet she didn’t look as if she were done, far from it. There was a but. 

 

“But finding out that Adrien was Chat Noir made me question all of that,” her voice trembled. “ I… I don’t think I really know you! Is Chat Noir a facade? Is Adrien just an act? You are one same person, not two entities but I don’t know who you are. I used to put you on a pedestal. You used to idolize me, you still seem to think that I owe you something sometimes but I really don’t! And you barely know me… _Merde_ , we’ve only started to warm up to each other a few weeks ago! You’re nowhere near as perfect as I thought you were!”

 

“I don’t… I’m not sure I…” She had criticized him. He wasn’t used to criticism. He wasn’t sure that he liked it, but there was something else. She knew him, as something more than a surface printed on glossy paper in tabloids and fashion magazines, she knew him and he had her name on the tip of his tongue, she knew him and she had loved him then, she hadn’t wanted to use him.  Did it mean that she… She answered him before he could open his mouth.

 

“I want to get to know you. I want to start over, one more time,” she said and there were tears in her eyes. He wasn’t looking at her, in fact he wasn’t looking at anything at all. He had closed his eyes, was it to keep similar tears from rolling down his cheeks? But she wasn’t done yet. “One more time. Because I know that my feelings for you were real, and they still are.” 

 

As if on cue, his transformation wore off. He didn’t need to open his eyes to know what had happened, he was too familiar with the sensation for that. A wave of anxiety washed through him. He understood, now, everything that she had felt during the last few days after she had cancelled their patrol, or even before that, why she had avoided him. He wanted to hide but there he was. His transformation had worn out. He felt naked. Where was his courage when he needed it most? He was cold and afraid to find out who she was. He shivered and his eyes remained closed.

 

“Lucky charm.” Her words had only been murmurs, but it echoed in the silence. There was the sound of something soft falling in Ladybug’s hand,. He felt something brush his shoulders, enveloping him, and suddenly he was much warmer. Something was pulled on his head. Was it a hood? He ran his hands through the fabric of what was a hood, he was sure of it now. There were two triangular shapes protruding from the hood. Like cat ears. He opened up his eyes, glancing at his shoulder. Even without his night vision, he could tell that this hoodie had the Ladybug pattern. 

 

“I think… I think I want to give it a chance too,” he finally spoke. He hesitantly looked up and their eyes met. For a moment, they were the only people in the entire world. “Well… My name is Adrien Agreste, but I like to call myself Chat Noir when I’m transformed,” he chuckled. He wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t afraid. Or maybe only a little. But there would be time to be scared later. “Nice to meet you…?”

 

“Tikki, spots off.” There was an intense flash of light and he was temped to shield his eyes but didn’t. He was done hiding. It was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. His Lady had just de-transformed and held her hand to him. “I am Marinette Dupain-Cheng, just a normal girl, with a normal life, but I am also Ladybug. It’s nice to finally meet you, Chaton, Adrien…”

 

“Found you,” he gave her this smile, this small, slightly lopsided smile that reached his eyes, and this time he didn’t fight the tears. He had guessed right and he was so relieved, so glad that it was her. He’d think of the implications of it later.  They shook hands and chuckled at how solemn that was. But they were more than associates. They closed the distance that separated them and she held him in her arms softly at first, but with a little more strength when he hugged her back. They stayed in each other’s embrace for a little while. It was what home was meant to feel like — the faint smell of cinnamon her hair, the feel of their hearts beating as one, he thought. Adrien decided that there was nowhere else he’d rather be. 

 

Softly, Marinette pulled away from the hug. He had accepted her for who she was outside of the suit, he had accepted her love letter, he hadn’t been disappointed, he had stayed. She rested her forehead against his and all was right. Until Adrien sneezed. Of course, the hoodie had vanished when she had de-transformed. It was way past their bedtime, they both needed to sleep even though they didn’t feel like it.

 

“So,” he broke the silence, and this time it was his voice that cracked.

 

“So,” she mirrored him with a tentative on her face. ”Are you still coming at my place for lunch tomorrow? We really need to work on that Catbug idea of yours. I’d like us to spend more time together.”

 

“I’m really looking forward to it, my Lady,” he hummed. “Can’t we stay like this for a little while?”

 

“There will be time for that later,” she murmured. “The last few days were really grueling for me, we’ll see each other in a matter of hours anyway don’t you think? You should get your beauty sleep, too _mon Chaton_. Tikki, spots on!”

 

Nothing happened. She didn’t transform. She tried again but once more, nothing. Her kwami was missing. And it seemed that Adrien’s kwami was gone too, she hadn’t even seen them. Marinette checked for her miraculous earrings, they were still on. Adrien’s ring was still on his finger. “Our kwamis… ditched us?” Adrien said, not quite amused. And thus began the search. Soon, a green and red ray of light caught Marinette’s eye, coming from under the access door to the roof. It seemed that he had also noticed. They looked at each other and nodded, they moved stealthily to the door, which hadn’t been properly closed by Chat Noir. Here they were, the two kwamis glowing, and having what seemed like a quite animated if happy conversation, a celebration. not that their human bearers could understand them, to them, it would certainly sound like a series of clicks and faint whines. Was it their language? Either way, the two teenagers opened the door briskly, interrupting the conversation altogether. 

 

“Kid, it’s not what it looks like, look, I can expla—” the kwami of destruction tried to say, but Adrien put a finger on Plagg’s mouth before he could try to talk himself out of it.

 

“Was it your plan to de-transform me in the middle of the conversation without telling me, Plagg?”

 

“Actually, Adrien, it was my idea,” Marinette’s kwami said, “even Marinette didn’t know the full extent of my plan. Are you upset?”

 

“Upset, me? No. Still a little confused, yet, I think I need to process what happened fully, but upset? No way,” he smirked.

 

“Tikki, you and… Plagg will have all the time you want to talk later,” Marinette said, “but right now I’d like to go home and I don’t think it’s good for Adrien to stay in the cold like that. Would it be OK if you continued it, say, tomorrow?”

 

Tikki simply nodded, grinning from antenna to antenna, and Marinette didn’t think that she had ever seen her kwami this happy. She flew to the girl’s shoulder and settled there, while Plagg mirrored her act, although lazily. 

 

“Plagg, claws out!”

 

“Tikki, spots on!”

 

They simply faced each other, not quite knowing whether they should say something or not, it hadn’t happened before. She (Ladybug? Marinette? It was still surreal to him) leaned in and brushed her lips on his cheek. He (who was he? They’d have to figure it out together) did the same. That was it then, they both thought as they looked away. It was a new beginning. 

 

“See you in class!” she shouted before she jumped from the building, throwing her yo-yo forward. He watched her swing from a building to an other , running from rooftop to rooftop. His feeling for her, he reflected, were truer than ever before.

It was time to go home, Father would be back in the evening, he would make the most of his day. When he finally got back to his room, he managed to change for bed and wash his face, smiling that silly smile, before he tucked himself in his blanket. He fell asleep instantly, exhausted, a little confused but very happy.

 

He was late for school, a first in his entire (although short) school life. Nathalie had let him oversleep for once, and he was glad for that. She had seemed quite stressed out, Adrien noticed, when she informed him that all his extracurricular activities and photoshoots had been cancelled for the day. As he hurriedly got out of the car, giving a small thank to Gorilla (he’d have to ask him what his name was) and walked quickly across the corridor (no running allowed), he caught up with Marinette. Should he kiss her cheek, he wondered? She noticed him, as she turned but didn’t quite meet his eyes.

 

“H-hi,” she whispered, her smile small but contagious, as the same smile grazed his lips moments later. They kissed each other on the cheeks and resumed their walk to the classroom, their shoulders brushing every so often, not that either of them minded. This newfound closeness was something they would have to work out, she thought to herself, he had looked rather clueless about it so they would take things slowly. Should he still call her his friend, he wondered, but it was something they would find the answer to together. 

 

Marinette was the one to knock the door, and he followed behind her. They excused themselves for their lateness and took their seats. Was the rest of the class staring at them as if they had grown a second head? It was what it felt like. Mme Lévi, the biology teacher, looked quite surprised herself. Adrien being late was unheard of, but him coming in with Marinette… Câline would love this, she thought to herself.

 

The morning passed like a blur, and Marinette almost forgot that she had an announcement to make in front of the class, until Alya reminded her before M. Dangledroit’s trigonometry lesson was over. How could she have forgotten, it was so important, so obvious. But that would have to wait for the afternoon classes, she thought. Her classmates looked too hungry to be able to focus on what she had to tell them, they would all have lunch first and then she’d tell hem. Yes, she’d tell them that she was completely done with the sweatshirt project and that the class would present them to M. Agreste on Friday. That could wait. The math teacher finally let them go, she took her time to put her things in her schoolbag while chatting with Alya.

 

“Girl, you’ll tell me everything once you’ve figured it out. Still up for that Daredevil marathon tomorrow? ”

 

“How could I miss it?” Marinette hugged her friend goodbye, she was glad to see that Adrien was waiting for her at the entrance of the school

 

“Hey, it’s going to be alright, my parents already know you and they really like you,” she reassured him as she looked for her keys. The walk to her house had been nice, although the conversation had been punctuated with burst of laughter from one of them, from time to time. Rue Gotlib, he decided, felt somehow more familiar than Place du Châtelet. It had to be because of the memories. He turned his attention back to Marinette. “Besides, they’re probably too busy with the bakery so they won’t bother us. I think mum left the ingredients for us to cook so it’s going to be fun!” She unlocked the door and after a few seconds of hesitation, he followed her inside. 

 

“Wow,” Adrien sounded amazed and he had stars in his eyes. “We get to cook that ourselves? I’ve never been allowed to do that! I mean, I cooked a cake or two with mom when I was younger but… That’s incredible! Can you teach me?” He knew that he sounded childish, but she didn’t mind, it even made her smile. 

 

And so she taught him. On the worktop, Sabine and Tom left them girolles, courgettes and linguine with chives and thyme. She explained him why adding thyme to the cooking water would work so well with the pasta, she let him cut the courgettes, her hands brushing over his every so often, but not more than a few seconds, to correct the way he held the knife. It was almost awkward, touching hands like that. They were blushing messes but somehow it was nice. They would need time to get used to it, to practice. She browned the vegetables and the mushrooms in two different pans, while he looked at her, fascinated. One day, he told himself, one day I’ll be able to do it myself and I’ll cook a meal for her. A quarter of an hour later, they were done.

 

Their lunch was shared in a confortable silence. It wasn’t that they didn’t have anything to say, but it was completely new to them. It was as if they were transformed and hanging out on a rooftop after a fight, only things were different, there was something different, it was far from uncomfortable. Was it love? Once more, Plagg and Tikki were nowhere to be found, but they didn’t mind. It was only the two of them; a little lost, still trying to figure things out. Them being there was a first step. They would take things slow, there was no hurry. He helped her with the dishes (she’d have to teach him how to do it properly too, all the things he didn’t know…), then they went upstairs. 

 

Her room was quite familiar, and the changes were quite striking. “You took the pictures down,” he noticed. She didn’t reply. Where the Adrien shrine used to be, there were various design sheets, and a Jagged Stone poster with his autograph, lucky her. She was busy looking for one of her sketchbooks and she wore a triumphant smirk when she found it. It was a new one, he noted as he took his usual place in the chaise longue. Doing it without the mask on was new, it must have shown on his face, if her quirked lips were any indication. She handed him the sketchbook with a hint of confidence this time. 

 

The hoodie her Lucky Charm had provided was the product of magic, it had almost seemed like the figment of her imagination. Her sketches had made them much more concrete and tangible. If he were his father, Adrien would have found many things to criticize on these first drafts. Instead, he was in awe. It was exactly what he had wanted, the perfect combination of the two heroes. He couldn’t wait to wear the real hoodie, and it seemed that Marinette had read his thoughts.

 

“Is it OK if I take your measurements now?” she asked.  “It’ll only take about one minute at max, I’ve got a tape measure so…”

 

“Yeah, please do,” he said, and a blush crept on his cheeks once more. 

 

Marinette was right, it did take a few seconds and they managed to avoid all kinds of embarrassing touches. It was very professional, but not without warmth. It wasn’t like that when Gabriel’s dress designer worked under the couturier’s watch. She had noted down the measurements carefully and she looked at him and there was a sudden light in her eyes, an impulse and she playfully messed his hair. 

 

“We’re going to have to make it slightly bigger than you are, you’re not done growing up just yet, Chaton… Unless you want me to make you a new one every so often?”

 

Sabine Cheng’s voice echoed from downstairs, and he could catch the last part of her sentence, “…late for school.” He almost panicked, Marinette too.

 

And with that, the moment ended. They rushed to school, Adrien managing to awkwardly say hello before Marinette dragged him in the street. They made it in time, to her surprise, which meant that she could ask Mme Mendeliev if she didn’t mind her making an announcement, to which the physics teacher surprisingly agreed. 

 

“So, I wanted to remind you that we’ll present M. Agreste our project on Friday!” she said excitedly, and it seemed that the class shared her enthusiasm. “I am done with these sweatshirts, at least for now, and I think you’ll like seeing them as much as I enjoyed making them. Thank you for your trust and your constant support, it helped more than you can imagine!”

 

She needed to see Ivan and Juleka at break so that they could plan a little something, Alya already knew it. Watching them simply stand around in their clothes wouldn’t impress M. Agreste at all, and while it was true that Marinette was still an amateur, she didn’t need to make bad impressions by boring him. Maybe she should ask Adrien for tips, but for now, all was good and she simply followed the lesson with a carefree look on her face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonjour, bonsoir!
> 
> Writing this chapter was… Something, to say the least, I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> I don't think I need to explain many things there, except that you probably already know what "merde" means (shit), that Place du Châtelet is located between the first and fourth arrondissement, that rue Gotlib (Gotlib street,he was a French cartoonist) is in the twenty-first arrondissement (which does not exist), and that both addresses come from the Wiki.
> 
> Please, keep in mind that English is not my first language…
> 
> My ENS exams are drawing near, I might not be able to post things for a little while, about two weeks, but this fic is not dead, it is already finished and I'll resume posting as soon as I can. So, if you ask yourself "what are they doing, shouldn't they be posting?", I will, I swear, just you wait for a little while.
> 
> I have already finished the “schedule“ and overall scenario for my Kaganette fic, I think it might be quite good. I can't tell yet.
> 
> Thank you all for the kudos, comments and bookmarks, I really appreciate your kindness and reading them is quite heartwarming!
> 
> I’ll see you for the next chapter!


	7. Superheroes (part.2)

Gabriel Agreste was fuming when he entered his secret lair. Him going to Milan had been such a waste of time. Not a waste of money, his prêt-à-porter line would do well in his brand new stores, a fashion house would open soon in the city centre if everything proceeded according to plan, and he had been positively surprised by the work they had done. But although that was important, it hadn’t been the main reason for his trip in Italy. The rumours were wrong, the Rat wasn’t there. It had been an extremely talented thief but nothing more than that. He wasn’t going anywhere.

 

He had tried to keep his anger in check, he had many things to do anyway, and the evening of his return, he had resisted the temptation to transform. His son didn’t need to see him like that, exhausted and overworked. He seemed to do well in school and according to Nathalie’s reports, he looked happy; it was all that he needed. He hadn’t seen him yesterday, but he’d make up for it tomorrow when he would be the jury for that foolish _collège_ project. But if it made Adrien happy that he showed interest in his life outside of photoshoots, then he’d suffer the inconvenance of a twenty minute video-conference session with teenagers. It had been the Dupain-Cheng girl’s idea, really, and although he was curious as to what she had in store for him, he wasn’t expecting a lot. Still, he should keep an eye on her, he thought. But he had more important things to do than wondering about the work of an aspiring fashion designer.

 

Nathalie herself looked quite overstressed, even distressed. It could be worrisome, but that was one way to look at it, and by far not the most interesting or useful one. In fact, that was exactly what he needed, she would be the ideal tool. And wasn’t he doing her a service? Being the Collector had been a great outlet for him. If she succeeded, they wouldn’t need to talk about it, and if she failed him they wouldn’t discuss it, she’d probably thank him. He had dismissed Nathalie, allowing her to return to her flat tonight. He didn’t want his mansion to become a battlefield once again. Adrien need his sleep, and it was too risky to have other bearer in his room. Nooroo hadn’t told him, it seemed that he had tampered Gabriel’s ability, but he knew that they could sense when an other miraculous was around. Would they sense it under three layers of tempered steel, lead and titanium? He didn’t want to risk it. He had yet to control his kwami fully before he would be able to fight them directly.

 

He untied his tie, and spoke the words he had wanted to pronounce for days without ever finding the time for it. “Nooroo, Dark Wings, Rise!” 

 

 

Adrien, of course, wasn’t sleeping at all. Chat Noir was out for the night. They had decided to put back the hour of the patrol, as Marinette had promised Alya that they would watch a TV series together once school was over. He didn’t catch the name, but it was super-hero related, knowing Alya. Marinette was supposed to stay at her friend’s for the night, and here he was, at three in the morning, sneaking out of his bed while he should be fast asleep. He yawned. She was certainly waiting for him at the top of the Eiffel Tower. Not that Hawk Moth would show himself, he thought, as he jumped from rooftop to rooftop. Even Hawk Moth of all people needed to rest from time to time, and it looked as though he was away or extremely busy. There was no way he made a living out of it, considering how he was only after his ring and his Lady’s earrings. 

 

Here she was, looking tired but quite happy to see him. They would make it short and efficient, they’d notice it if anything went wrong. There were very few people around by that time anyway, a few night owls and drunken partygoers, they’d check on them and that would be it, she thought as she saw him arrive. That would be the plan, and they’d follow it through. She greeted him with a kiss on his cheek while he kissed her hand. They chatted for a while, simply enjoying the windy night and each other’s company. They almost lost track of time.

 

“… And that’s how my dad proposed to my mom!” Ladybug ended her story with a bright smile on her face. “She almost choked on the ring, though…”

 

“Yes, it runs in the family, I think” Chat Noir winked. He burst out laughing as he saw his partner, best friend and maybe a little more turn beet red. 

 

“How about your parents, Chat? You never talk about them,” she said. He was always too secretive, she thought, and sometimes she was sure that he wasn’t telling the whole story. She, on the other hand, tried to share every little story that she could think of.

 

“There’s nothing to say, really, they simply—”

 

And then they saw violent flashes of purple coming from a nearby nightclub. That, she thought, didn’t sound good at all. It was Hawk Moth all over. That was meant to be an easy night with no trouble, she moaned to herself. She didn’t need to tell Chat Noir what to do, they simply nodded to each other and followed the direction of the flashes. People were mechanically going in and out of the nightclub, with an electric-looking haze surrounding their heads. That didn’t look good, not at all. Were they hostages? What was this akuma’s power? 

 

“Miss, are you alright?” Ladybug asked with a worried glance.

 

“From 3:33AM to 3:42AM, go outside to get some fresh air then come back inside and wait for further instruction,” the young woman droned. She wasn’t looking at her, or at anything, really, and it wasn’t because of whatever drink she had had before. Was she in shock? The flashes continued from inside the building. The akuma was still in there. They hadn’t been spotted yet, so they tiptoed inside.

 

The nightclub was far from empty, but it felt soulless, cold. The people in there were not having a good time, it was as though they were following a schedule of some sorts, rather than what they wanted in the first place. Their dancing, their having a drink at the bar, it was all part of some sick plan none of these people had asked to be a part of. Why did it sound so familiar to Chat Noir?

 

“From 3:37AM until I order you to stop, you’ll try to take Chat Noir and Ladybug’s Miraculouses and you’ll give them to me,” a cold voice said behind them.

 

The two heroes turned around to meet the source of the voice. Oh. No. She wore her hair in a neat bun, and the glasses only accentuated the severe glare the akumatized victim gave them. Her skin had turned a sickly green. Chat Noir paled. First his father, then Nathalie, it looked like there was something rotten in the Agreste mansion. It was something they would have to investigate. Maybe they should all visit a psychiatrist? But then Father would find it _purr_ posterous…

 

“The Scheduler commands you, my minions, take their Miraculouses,” she boomed, interrupting his train of thoughts as she wrote her words of command in the air with her stylus. The writing glowed purple, and the Scheduler pointed the stylus at the hazed civilians, cackling in her best impression of the Wicked Witch of the West. Hawk Moth laughed with her. The music stopped and all eyes were on Ladybug and Chat Noir. The door closed. To make things worse, her earrings beeped once. She couldn’t risk using her Lucky Charm tonight. Exactly what she needed.

 

Battling against drunk civilians wasn’t what either of them had thought being superheroes would be like. Once she captured the akuma, she would fix everything, and everyone probably, but did that allow them to harm civilians? Chat Noir hissed and extended his staff. Needless to say, the Scheduler’s minions were not impressed. They lunged at him, not one after an other the way gentlepeople would do, but in a rather disorganised manner. So he did the only sensible thing he could think of, he tripped them with his staff. They were too intoxicated to sidestep and in the next few seconds, many hit the floor. Ladybug noticed that and tried to imitate him with her yo-yo, but she was less successful. Two of the Scheduler’ minions almost caught her before she managed to push them away. It wasn’t good. And that annoying stroboscopic light that wouldn’t stop… 

 

They tried to come closer to the Scheduler but she launched new waves of minions with a flick of her wrist every time they could get anywhere near her. This wasn’t going anywhere, and it seemed that the akumatized Nathalie Sancœur had understood it to. She needed to make it faster, or they’d be able to defeat her. She needed to readjust her schedule, end it and end it immediately. 

 

“At 3:42AM, Chat Noir will give me his Miraculous,” the Scheduler shouted from the other side of the room, seated in a makeshift throne. 

 

“Hey, it’s _purr_ ticularly rude to talk about me in the third person when I’m right here, you know” he piped up. 

 

She pointed her stylus at the boy. Ladybug pushed him aside before the purple mist could reach him. She shrugged. That had been quite underwhelming to say the least. If she didn’t point her stylus in the right direction, if her order didn’t reach the person it was addressed to then it had no meaning, it wouldn’t work. Hawk Moth should really think go akuma whose weaknesses were not sight-related, she scoffed, it was starting to get unimaginative. 

 

“Chat, I’ll need you to be my eyes for this one!” she shouted and smashed all the spotlights her yo-yo could reach, including the stroboscope, and wrapped the string around the Scheduler’s arm, pulling it before she called her yo-yo back in her hand. There was the sound of something dropping on the floor. Ladybug grabbed Chat Noir’s paw and let him lead her through the chaos of partygoers groping around in the dark and apparently so did the Scheduler. Touching each other was a little weird now, but they had no time to talk about it just now. The fight was already won.

 

Hawk Moth didn’t hide his anger, and tried to take it all on his puppet. Being akumatized didn’t make you impervious to pain and Nathalie Sancœur almost learned it the hard way. The sound of the stylus being broken echoed in the silent nightclub. She was saved and she wasn’t. 

 

“No more evil-doing for you, little akuma,”, Ladybug said as her partner guided her movements.“Time to de-evilise!”

 

She didn’t need Chat Noir to tell him that it had miraculously worked, and she let a small “Got you!” of victory.

 

“Bye-bye, little butterfly,” she whispered, and then louder, “Miraculous Ladybug!”

 

They got out of the nightclub, Chat Noir towing Nathalie around. Would she be able to make it back home? The nervous and dazzled assistant assured them that she would be able to, as ambulances arrived to take care of the rest, the cue for them to leave as fast as they could, for Marinette’s earrings started to beep again, hurriedly. When had they become so carefree? They needed to talk about it, she thought as she followed her partner

 

They de-transformed under the pont de la Concorde, where Marinette gave Tikki and Adrien a cookie they had to share. It was enough for the kwami to get going. It had been a close call, almost amateurish. They had been too careless in their preparation, it scared her. They had sworn to protect Paris and they had almost failed. Using their transformation to spend time together without doing anything else had been foolish and dangerous. A few days ago, it would have been a possibility but with Hawk Moth back… Still, she didn’t want  to go back to how things were before. She needed to tell him.

 

“Chat, I think…”

 

“I know, saving Paris first, the rest comes after. It’s hard but that’s what we were chosen for,” he said and it seemed that he had rehearsed it many time over. Still, he wasn’t happy about it, and he added “But it doesn’t exclude us hanging out together, there’s time for that too. It isn’t incompatible but we need to be more careful.”

 

She blinked once, then once again. That was unexpectedly mature coming from him, but not unlike him : he hadn’t given up on what she had gotten used to expect from him. A smile crept on her lips and she hugged him before he open his mouth again. For once, they didn’t need words, it was complete understanding tinged with fondness. Saying goodbye was getting slightly harder every time. 

 

When Marinette finally got back to Alya’s flat, she made sure not to make any noise as she plopped down on the air bed her friend had prepared for her. The future didn’t scare her anymore, they would face it together. Not that she had ever been truly alone, but her bond with Adrien was growing slowly. It was still a little awkward from time to time, most of the time, but it got better. Knowing who the other was helped them warm up to each other. Tikki settled under the blanket and closed her eyes after she gave Marinette a weary smile. Sleep came to her easily, and she was sure that it would be the same for the boy with the green eyes in a matter of minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonjour, bonsoir!
> 
> I'm not dead! Not yet, at least.  
> My exams begin tomorrow but I thought, why not give them my one but last chapter before heck breaks loose?  
> So here we are.
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr[ there](https://algernoninwonderland.tumblr.com) if you feel like it, I guess, I might even answer your questions about France if I feel like it.
> 
> The grand finale will be posted when this whole ENS thing is finally over, which is to say… The 25th of April!  
> Thank you so much for your kudos, bookmarks and comments, they truly help.
> 
> Also, I'm still French so there may be mistakes in some places. And I'm sorry for that.  
> I'll see you all for the next chapter.


	8. Curtain Call

She was not going to faint, it was only one presentation in front of Gabriel Agreste, she was not going to faint, he was only one the greatest couturiers in Paris and probably in Europe and he would judge two weeks worth of her work. Everything would go just fine, she had made sure to wake up earlier and there was still half an hour to wait before she’d present the sweatshirts to her classmates and Gabriel Agreste — not Adrien’s dad, Gabriel Agreste, she reminded herself— at the same time. Were they going to like it, would they choose one of her designs instead of a “default” Gabriel sweatshirt from an older collection with a different logo? She had sent her design sheets and patterns to the Gabriel head office and a copy to the man himself. She was not going to faint.

 

“I don’t feel right,” Marinette moaned to herself.

 

There was constant agitation around her, everyone was trying to arrange the classroom so that there would be a professional feel to it, not that it had been a great success but everyone was trying their best. Nino and Nathaniel had even story-boarded the presentation so that they would be in full control. Nothing could possibly go wrong if they sticked to it, or so she had first thought. Juleka, Ivan, Alya and Adrien were outside the classroom. It seemed that Adrien was giving them some tips when it came to their posture and the way they should walk. The model made it look extremely easy, it really wasn’t, Ivan had a hard time following his advice. The overall presentation would certainly look some amateur’s work, Marinette cringed. Then again, they weren’t here for the Paris Fashion Week, she knew that it would take years for her to go this far; years before she would present her creation to the entire world of fashion design. These were school sweatshirts so she shouldn’t have been that worried. But she was nonetheless.

 

They had gone for a fitting session the day before and it had been great, or at least they all thought so. Juleka had asked whether she could keep her sweatshirt after the presentation was over, to which Marinette had agreed, but all the appreciation of collège students wouldn’t really matter when Gabriel Agreste was to one to make the final choice. Still a few more minutes to go, and her three appointed models weren’t wearing their sweatshirts yet. She hadn’t wanted to spoil the surprise for the rest of the class, and that meant Adrien too. He had seen her prototypes as Chat, but never the actual sweatshirts. Him discovering them before the rest of the class wouldn’t be fair. 

 

She couldn’t find her telephone in her pocket, and resisted the temptation to steal Nathaniel’s to text Adrien. She guessed she would have to do it the old fashioned way, but then again shouting across the corridor wouldn’t do. Well then, she would simply have to walk and find him. In about half an hour, they would have to be completely ready. She tried her best not to open the door too briskly and made her way to the schoolyard. Oh no, she had forgotten the garment bags in the classroom. She wasn’t freaking out, everything was going to be alright. Sometimes, she truly wondered how she could be Lady Luck. She’d probably have to walk back. She heard the loud footsteps of Alix and Kim. Before she even turned around, she knew that they had brought what she needed. She thanked them profusely and relieved them of the garment bags.  

 

She only found Adrien and Alya with worried looks on their faces. Where were Ivan and Juleka? She would have heard if an akuma conveniently happened to be on the loose, besides Adrien would already be fighting them. She was overthinking it again. Should she have picket up other students? But then again they had seemed pretty enthusiastic about the project. So where were these two?

 

“Juleka said she had to go to the toilets because she didn’t feel well and she didn’t come back so Ivan came to check on her about ten minutes ago,” Alya explained as if she had read her friend’s mind. “I think she had a panic attack, but Ivan is taking care of it.”

 

“Well then, you should go to the changing rooms, here’s your sweatshirt,” Marinette smiled nervously. She carefully gave Alya a garment bag, hoping that it was the right one. “Adrien,” she didn’t quite meet his eyes, “you were really helpful, thank you for all of that!”

 

A blush bloomed on his tanned cheeks as he nodded. He understood that she wanted him back in the classroom with the others. Still, there was something he needed to do before that. He leaned in to kiss Marinette’s cheek. “You’re going to do great, my Lady” he whispered in a hushed voice so that Alya wouldn’t hear. 

 

He saw her nod, it was enough for him to know that he could go back in the classroom and join the others without feeling too guilty about leaving her and it is what he did. Not that she needed his help anyway, she could handle it just fine on her own, all he had done was help a little. He was a little worried, of course, but she was going to amaze them all, even Father. 

 

Once Adrien disappeared from Alya’s field of vision, she felt like squealing but refrained from doing so when she saw Marinette’s blue eyes, filled of determination. She would find the time to tease her later, they had more pressing matters to deal with. Alya opened the garment bag to make sure that the sweatshirt was the right one, then ran to the changing room, clutching the bag to her chest. 

 

Marinette simply waited, not wanting to disturb anyone. All that mattered was Juleka’s well-being. Adrien had told her that his Father wouldn’t cancel photoshoots unless Adrien was too sick to get out of bed, she didn’t want to be like him. She was starting to change her mind about Gabriel Agreste, she had noticed, not in a way that she liked. If she had to find someone else to model the jacket with the stand-up collar at the last minute because Juleka wasn’t able to do it anymore, she would ask someone else, the sweatshirts were ready-to-wear anyway. Now, she just hoped that the girl was alright. Ivan’s low voice was speaking soothing and reassuring words to the girl. She heard the sound of a door being unlocked then opened, then water running out of a tap. 

 

Marinette checked the wristwatch she had borrowed her mother for the day. They had twenty minutes left, then the makeshift fashion show would begin, with or without them. M. Agreste was a very punctual man, after all. After a worrying eternity, Juleka and Ivan finally walked out the toilets. She didn’t want to startle Juleka but she had to ask her.

 

“Hey, are you alright? It’s okay if you don’t want to do it anymore, I won’t hold it against you, no one will,” Marinette tried to reassure the other girl.

 

“I really wanna do it, Marinette,” Juleka shook her head. “It’s going to be fine.” Ivan simply nodded in approval. She would have to thank him for taking care of Juleka later, the aspiring fashion designer thought. 

 

“If you’re really sure about that… Here are your sweatshirts, you two!” Marinette said and gave them the two remaining garment bags. “We’ve still got a little time, about sixteen minutes so let’s get ready!”

 

She watched Ivan and Juleka walk to the changing rooms and she was alone again, waiting for her appointed models to come back with their sweatshirts on. She was doing a lot of waiting today, she reflected. Still about ten minutes to go before it would start, if her watch was to be trusted. She didn’t notice Alya until her best friend hugged her from behind. Marinette relaxed and let out a breath she didn’t remember holding in the first place as her friend played with her pigtails. She wasn’t so tense anymore when they broke the hug. Alya looked quite good with the letterman jacket-inspired sweatshirt, Marinette thought. If she had to make a made-to-measure of this design for her friend, she would have changed more than a few things but now was not the time for last-minute adjustments. They were soon joined by Juleka and eventually Ivan. They were all a little nervous, but things would go well, she was almost sure of that. 

 

“I wanted to thank you all for modeling my designs,” Marinette broke the silence. She wasn’t really good with improvised motivational speeches, but she wanted to give it a try. “I was very proud of working with you. I don’t know what’s gonna happen in the next twenty minutes, I mean I don’t know what M. Agreste’s choice will be, but… I mean, we had mock rehearsals and all, the worst thing that could happen would be an akuma… It won’t be a complete Bérézina… Let’s do this, alright?”

 

Marinette Dupain-Cheng had said that she would design the sweatshirts herself. That was it. She opened the door to the classroom and walked in, without her models. It seemed that the classroom was finally ready and everyone was chatting excitedly, even M. Damoclès. Still about two minutes to go, Marinette noted as she checked her wristwatch. She stood up on the makeshift catwalk as the noise slowly died down. It was the last minute, Gabriel Agreste would not be late. Nino had readied the tablet they would use for the video-conference, ready to use it like a camera. She knitted her brows and bit her lip. Thirty seconds. There were faint voices whispering encouraging words, Tikki’s was among them, Marinette was sure of that. She touched her earrings. Adrien’s smile, not his model smile but his small, slightly lopsided smile that lit up his eyes. Everything would be alright. Five, four, three, two one.

 

The video-conference began immediately, and Marinette could spy Gabriel Agreste’s stern face looking at M. Damoclès. 

 

“Good morning, Monsieur Agreste, thank you once more for your time,” the headteacher’s voice boomed in the otherwise silent room.

 

“Let us get down to business, shall we,” came the response, detached and cold with a hint of annoyance. 

 

“W-well yes, of course,” M. Damoclès stuttered, his spirits visibly dampened. 

 

Nino moved the tablet to his left, focusing more on Marinette this time. She did her best not to look intimidated. She had faced more dangerous people than Gabriel Agreste, she thought to herself, this was nothing compared to an akuma attack or even worse, an encounter with Hawk Moth himself.

 

“Good morning, M. Agreste,” she said clearly.

 

“Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng,” Gabriel Agreste greeted her. She had surprised him once, and there was a spark of curiosity in his usually cold, icy blue eyes.

 

“I present you not only one but three sweatshirt designs, as you’ve seen on the design sheet I sent you and your head office,” Marinette said. “If you please, let’s start with the first design!”

 

On cue, Juleka opened the door and made her way to the catwalk, Nino following her with the tablet as she turned around. Rose’s hand was over her mouth so that she wouldn’t squeal too loudly, which was a rather good sign. The classroom broke the silence with enthusiastic oohing and what felt like thunderous applause. It was hard for Marinette to focus on the tablet again. She fought a smile and Nino turned the tablet back at her with a wink. Gabriel Agreste was looking at her intently, his expression unreadable. If Adrien hadn’t told her, she would have over-interpreted that. Gabriel Agreste tended to express his discontentment but rarely anything else. Come to think of it, his reaction was rather positive.

 

“You may continue,” he simply spoke, his tone neutral.

 

“Thank you, M. Agreste. The second design!” She motioned at the catwalk as the classroom’s door opened once again.

 

If Nino hadn’t been on tablet duty, he would have clapped loudly and even whistled as Alya stepped on the catwalk. Needless to say, the class seemed to love it as well. The sweatshirt elected many admirative whispers from Kim to Max, something about the “quintessential coolness” of the letterman jacket-inspired . Was he trying to impress Max with his vocabulary? She discretely checked her wristwatch, they had about seven minutes left, time was almost running short but she was not done yet. She thought tat she had seen M. Agreste look surprised, but that had to be a trick of the light.

 

“Please, do continue with your third and final design” the couturier nodded.

 

There was the riskiest design, Marinette thought. It would be a hit or miss. When Ivan arrived wearing his sweatshirt, he was met with silence and the aspiring fashion-designer winced. Did they find it too weird? It wasn’t it, though. Their mouths were agape, they looked very surprised by the overall effect. Then Mylène tentatively clapped, then Adrien, Chloé (Chloé!), Kim and the rest of the class, applause even louder than for the two other designs. She had to admit it, the pastel pink sweatshirt looked good and quite confortable on Ivan. If Hawk Moth had wanted to akumatize someone in the classroom, his butterfly would have turned white.Marinette couldn’t help the smile on her face when she turned back to the tablet to meet Gabriel Agreste’s eyes.

 

“Here are my designs, M. Agreste,” she said confidently, “I know that this is an amateur’s work and I thank you for your attention.”

 

“We are now waiting for your verdict,” M. Damoclès all but barged in. “Would you like to use one of Marinette’s design or…”

 

“All three designs are quite interesting,” Gabriel Agreste cut in before the headteacher could end his tirade. “Mademoiselle Dupain Cheng said it herself, it is still the work of an amateur and with her permission, we would like to rework the patterns. She would still be credited for her work.” Nino turned the tablet around and he faced Marinette. “I think that the letterman jacket-inspired one would be best for a proper school sweatshirt, but we would like to use your two other designs, reworked of course for our next summer and autumn collections.” There was the hint of a smile on his lips when he said,“I would like you to come at Gabriel for your work experience next year, your work is promising.” 

 

The class cheered for her and Marinette thanked M. Agreste profusely before he abruptly finished the conference. It seemed so unreal yet here she was. Alya came to hug her, then Juleka, Ivan, Nino and other people she couldn’t quite see. She simply enjoyed the moment to its fullest, the warmth in her chest, the sudden lightness of her shoulders. They had done it, it had been so unexpected, nothing she could ever have hoped for but they had done it in the end. It was so good, liberating even. Her work had paid off in a way she hadn’t imagined. Still, there was the taste of incompleteness in Marinette’s mouth. There was still something that needed to be done, or rather something she wanted to do before she could call it a day. Rain was starting to fall outside, but she excused herself anyway for a breath of fresh air, and Adrien joined her for that, pretexting a phone call from his father’s assistant. 

 

They shared a few minutes of simple silence in the corridor, simply listening to the pitter-patter of the rain. He glanced at her hand hesitantly before they intertwined their fingers together. The gesture said it all. It was nice and easy, just being there, only the two of them as if they were the only people in Paris. Still…

 

“Are you free tomorrow?” she asked. “We still have that Catbug project to finish you know…”

 

“I think I am,” Adrien said. He licked his lips and finally met her eyes. “Unless there are some last-minute changes to my schedule I’m free. I’d really like to wear this hoodie…”

 

She giggled a little at that. Was he so clueless? The spark in his eyes, quite Chat-like, said otherwise. She needed to be brave, as brave as the day she had risen up to face Hawk Moth. Should she say it? She turned to face him completely. Should he say it? Words weren’t needed. Their Miraculouses pulsed, glowing softly in a silent celebration. The gesture said it all, the way he slowly closed his eyes, the way she leaned in, his hand on the small of her back (when had he let go of her hand?), hers on the nape of his neck. Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Adrien Agreste kissed and just for now, all was well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonjour, bonsoir!
> 
> I guess we’ve made it! This was my first Miraculous pic, and I must say I’m a little overwhelmed with all the attention it got. Thank you all for reading it until the very end, I hope you’ve enjoyed it.
> 
>  
> 
> Before I forget, I posted the first chapter of my Kagaminette fic, “En garde! Prêtes? Allez” a few days ago, ~~and I like it a lot more than this one~~ , read it [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14408868/chapters/33276363)!
> 
> You can visit my Tumblr[ here](https://algernoninwonderland.tumblr.com) if you feel like it, that'd be cool of you.
> 
> Au revoir! Et à bientôt!


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